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A Tearful of Miracle

Parameters:
story must be exactly 300 words
must begin with the word: ‘Rudyard’
and include somewhere in body: ‘poetics’ & ‘Wilde’

“Rudyard ?! “

“Honey, I love you beyond words and back. You’re a brilliant, clever, wondrous man. The love of my life infinity.”

“But … ‘Rudyard ?!’ “Really?” “Why not just name this glorious, growing seed, this son-of-ours-in-the-making ‘that geeky kid named after a long-deceased English poet?”

“Better yet – why stop there? In for a line, in for a stanza … How about this: ‘Rudyard Wilde Lennon?’ This way we cover not one – not two – but a full three of the men you admire most?

“Pretty funny there, love. But … may I?” asks hubby. “I mean, after all – I did have a little something to do with the onset of the subject of this conversation. Yes?”

“Indeed you did. My toes have yet to fully uncurl. Please, go on.”

“Just one of the many reasons I so love you, babe.” As he nestled his head on his wife’s tummy. “It’s not about the name, per se. It’s more what’s behind the name. Not simply the poetry. But the poetics. The je ne sais quoi which we can only hope & pray & dream will envelop in its mystery this half-you half-me miracle. Showering charm & beauty & love & humility on his every step every thought every heartbeat.”

Feeling the slightest movement against his face as he trailed off. Sobbing softly to himself, Rudyard’s entire life-to-be playing out behind daddy’s closed eyes. Feeling tears on his face. And falling gently on the top of his head as he releases his embrace on the two loves of his life. Grasping his wife’s hands. Rising up. Her quivering smile framed in tears.

Whispering … “God could not be everywhere, therefore He created Mothers.”